


Midnight on the bridge

by WrittenInkcompetence



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/F, Fluff, I hope I got her character right, I've never written her before, Sam and Dean play matchmaker, but i love her, charlie is the best
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-07-11 16:13:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7059925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WrittenInkcompetence/pseuds/WrittenInkcompetence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hunters are not supposed to fall in love, it never ends well. But sometimes it might just be worth a try.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Midnight on the bridge

**Author's Note:**

> For faith-in-dean's May writing challenge on Tumblr. The prompt was: "Midnight, on the bridge. Come alone."

You had never been one for sappy romances. Being a hunter simply didn’t allow for an extensive love life and your dreams of a knight in shining armour and an apple pie life were crushed by reality even before you completely grew out of your teenage years. And that’s exactly why you felt really conflicted when you met Charlie for the first time.  
She was gorgeous. Nerdy, brilliant, kind at heart and such a beautiful ray of sunshine that you wanted nothing more than to shield her from all harm. You had never felt this protective over someone and it terrified the hell out of you. Usually the people you cared about could take care of themselves. Sam and Dean were badass hunters and too stubborn to stay dead, Cas was a warrior of God and yeah that was the short list of your close friends. But Charlie… Sure she could kick anyone’s ass online, she could handle a sword and defeat a decent number of people during LARPs and her pop culture trivia was so extensive she could survive any fantasy world if her survival solely depended on her knowledge. She was a force to be reckoned with and her past was darker than her bright smile would suggest but there was something vulnerable about her, something fragile and pure and you wanted to protect that.   
And it got even worse when you started flirting. At first it was only playful and you weren’t quite sure how much you should read into it but after some time there was no denying that there was something between the two of you. You regularly caught each other staring, the eye contact you made was so intense you once heard Dean whisper “Get a room” and both of you constantly seeked physical contact. Hugging, playfully boxing shoulders and sides or just touching the other’s arm when you talked. It was more than obvious that you both had it bad for each other. But you ignored it. You had to ignore it. If being a hunter had a job description, “Don’t fall in love” would be among the top five points because it brought nothing but pain. Hunters died, people close to hunters died and while death might not always be the end, it always had trouble in its wake. So you tried to distract yourself, case after case.  
The Impala sped along the empty highway, the engine purring deeply as if the car loved the road as much as you did. Dean turned up the volume until “Say you will” by Foreigner could probably be heard from outside the car and sang along enthusiastically, much to Sam’s dismay. And you? You felt at peace. These were the moments you felt right. The open road on the way to some case with classic rock and two bickering brothers. This was your life; at least it was the part about it you loved. It had taken you quite a bit of work to get the two of them on the case although it wasn’t because of the case itself. There was absolutely nothing fishy about it. Animal attacks in Brunswick, Georgia, only that the hearts were ripped straight out of the victim’s chests. Classic werewolf case with one or maybe two wolves you had to hunt down, as plain and simple as that. So the hard part wasn’t to convince Sam and Dean that they should work this case, the hard part was to convince them that you were fit to work it as well. It didn’t go unnoticed by them that something was bothering you which led to a heartfelt conversation about running away from your problems until you get yourself killed. The sympathetic phrase “We’ve been there” made you feel sick to the stomach but not because you thought they couldn’t know what you were going through. They knew. They knew all too well and it hurt you that they were right. You had to face your feelings eventually instead of drowning them in blood and alcohol. The problematic part is that you didn’t want that.  
The only way they agreed on taking the case with you was if you stayed for a few more days after that. Apparently Sam did some research and concluded that it was a great place to go for a holiday and hell did you need one. Just a bit of water, sunshine, fancy drinks and random hook-ups to forget about your problems and reality. Maybe it would help.  
The motel was just like any other you’d ever been to. It felt like someone was just reusing set pieces over and over again to build your life. The carpeted floor probably had a colour once but by now it had just faded to a dull grey that awkwardly tried to compare to the brightly coloured flower wallpaper that peeled off the walls at more than one place. The beds were too soft to be comfortable and creaked lightly with ever little movement as if they tried to protest against their fate. But after a twenty hour drive you would probably have no difficulties falling dead asleep on a park bench which is why you drifted off as soon as your head hit the pillow and you closed your eyes.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Monsters sucked. Intelligent monsters sucked even more. And monsters that were intelligent enough to outwit the three of you and keep you shackled to a tree for twelve hours royally sucked dick. Every muscle in your body felt tense and hurt like a bitch with every step you dragged yourself towards the bed. How could two werewolves overpower three hunters? You didn’t care how gross you felt, covered in dirt, sweat and tiny splatters of werewolf blood. You just let yourself fall face first onto the bed and kicked off your shoes when you heard something rustle underneath your elbow. With a groan you rolled over to the side and aimlessly reached for the piece of paper that lay on your bed. Maybe Sam or Dean had asked for a brochure of the region or something and you were so ready to begin your holiday after you slept for twelve hours.  
The paper in your hand was in fact a brochure with colourful, postcard-worthy pictures of the “Most beautiful parks and natural spaces in and around Brunswick”. What made you furrow your brow though as you went through the shiny leaflet was a note left underneath the picture of an idyllic little pond surrounded by trees. You rummaged your tired brain for a hint on whose handwriting that could be, the clear curves definitely not fitting Deans blocky style or Sam’s angular way to write. It wasn’t signed either. Just a rather mysterious “Midnight, on the bridge. Come alone” But you would think about that later. Right now it took you everything not to fall asleep here and there so you put the note on the nightstand toed off your socks and wrapped yourself in a blanket.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

When you woke up again it was 9 pm and you felt even grosser than before. The sweat, dirt and blood had dried and mixed overnight and coated you in a mixture of the reminiscents of yesterday’s hunt. Luckily, most of your muscles had stopped hurting just your legs felt sore from all the “running away from werewolves that tried to kill you and rip out your heart” – thing. A hot shower sounded like heaven right now which is exactly why you peeled yourself out of your blanket and clothes and stepped into the bathroom. You only remembered the strange note when you stepped out of the steaming room and saw it laying on your nightstand. Sam was sitting in the corner staring at his laptop screen, hands typing slower than usual due to a bandage around his wrist. Dean was nowhere in sight, probably off to find himself a girl that would let him blow off some pent up steam from the hunt. You stared at the brochure and it almost seemed to stare back with an unspoken question. Are you going to go?

“Hey Sam, did you tell anyone which motel we’re staying at?” you asked as casually as possible. Sam barely looked up from his Laptop you could see a few tabs with beautiful sceneries of beaches and cliffs. Apparently you were not the only one looking forward to this little holiday.

“Not that I know of, why?”

“Just wondering” Sam gave you a funny look, but kept scrolling when he didn’t get an explanation. And you were torn between the two possibilities you had. To go or not to go, that was the question. You had no idea who could have left the note; it could be a trap or a prank. On the other hand the mystery captivated you, you wanted to know what was behind it. And even if it was a trap, you were perfectly capable of defending yourself. And maybe you were really meeting someone how amazing would it be to capture someone’s attention so they would go to such lengths to meet you. Of course really creepy too, but flattering nonetheless.  
Luckily you also packed some nicer clothes.

\----------------------------------------------------

The moon painted spots of cool light through the roof of the trees above you on the grass beneath your feet. You could hear a dog barking in the distance and the sound of passing cars along one of the bigger roads nearby. The park itself was almost silent. A small river fed the pond you had seen in the brochure and the gravel path that crunched under each step you took led directly to an old, wooden bridge that almost looked black underneath the crescent’s light. A figure was leaning against the railing, more of a shadow against the greyish green of the park’s background but distinctly female. For a moment you almost hoped it was Charlie and your shoulders tensed, not sure if that thought made you want to come closer or run away. But it couldn’t be Charlie that would be just ridiculous. With slow, measured steps you approached the figure, who stepped into the middle of the bridge now, awaiting you. With every metre you were able to make out more of her. She was wearing a t-shirt underneath an open hoodie, her pants wrapped themselves closely around her leg and her curly, chin-length hair was the brightest of reds. She looked so surreal with white highlights of moonlight bouncing off her body and darkening every shadow, a sheepish smile on her face. After a moment of silence she raised her hand in an awkward wave.

“Hey”, Charlie said and you clasped onto the wooden railing, the aged material biting into the palm of your hand. What was she doing here? How did she know you would take a case in Brunswick? Maybe you just fell asleep again and you would wake up any moment and go through the struggle of fixing your hair again before you could leave for your mystery date. Or was the note a part of the dream too? You remembered that one scene in Inception where DiCaprio explained that when you were dreaming you wouldn’t be able to remember how you got into the situation. You had no idea if it was true but you could remember returning from the hunt, sleeping, showering, getting into a bus and walking through the park. It was all there from the moment you drove off at the Bunker to this second. No weird time skips, no nothing.

“Are you okay?” She was still there, now looking at you with a hint of concern in her eyes. She was beautiful und you probably looked like you were frozen in time with the dumbest expression of surprise on your face and unable to utter a single word.

“Okay you’re surprised. I get that. I would be too I mean how could you expect me to be here, right?” A nervous laugh escaped her lips and a part of your shell-shocked immobility crumbled only to be replaced by the overwhelming awkwardness of the situation. You should say something. You should definitely say something. But you couldn’t make yourself utter a single word. Your lips felt dry and sealed like that one time Dean replaced your chapstick with glue only worse. It was almost as if you were physically unable to move your mouth while you also couldn’t tear your eyes away from Charlie, who kept on babbling when you didn’t respond.

“The thing is Sam and Dean called me and told me you’d be in the area for a couple of days and asked if I had time to come over as well and I kind of said yes. I felt like this was a chance, you know? For both of us. Because I always had the feeling there was something between us but you never did anything even though I knew you liked girls please don’t ask me how I found out you really don’t want to know. Anyways, I wanted to take this chance and here I am and please just say something.” By now you had a pretty good idea of what a fish on dry land would feel. You felt like you were helplessly flapping back and forth, desperately trying to come up with something to say, do or any way to show a reaction. Show how you felt. But you couldn’t. Every word you could have said was a mess inside your brain, nothing sounded right.

“I… I can’t do this” The words slipped out before you could stop them and you had no idea if they were true or not. The smile on Charlie’s face fell and was replaced by a hurt expression that cut deeply into your heart. And from then on the dam was broken and the seal that kept your lips shut was gone.

“I just can’t Charlie. I’m a hunter and I won’t allow you to drown inside this world of mine. It’s going to kill you. It kills everyone. And I don’t think I could handle that.” Your words seemed to have lessened the blow a little because that sad little smile found its way onto Charlie’s face again.

“We could always try. Maybe you get killed before me.” There was a glimmer of hope in her eyes and for a moment you were lost. Did you not have the right to have a bit of love? A bit of happiness? A life as a hunter should not mean you were not allowed to try to have any relationships, should it? Charlie took a step closer, you were only a few hands’ widths apart and a light breeze carried over her sweet scent. The small smile still played around her lips and you couldn’t help but look at the little curve her mouth made in a mixture of nervousness and the attempt to lighten the mood.

“Fuck it”, you whispered and put your hand on her jaw, pulling her closer to you. Her lips felt just as soft as they looked, moving against yours effortlessly as she leaned in to you in an attempt to deepen the kiss. A small hum pulsed against your lips and you let her take control for a bit before you reluctantly pulled away, missing the warmth of her body and the touch of her lips as soon as you took a step back. The early summer’s breeze sent a light blow of cool air against you and you shivered, a stupid smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

“So we’re cool?” she asked and smiled at you in an equally stupidly happy way.

“More than cool” you answered and leaned against the railing looking up into the night sky. “And since I’m on holiday we’ve got some time to be cool together. How about I pick you up tomorrow and we’ll go grab a bite? I’ve also heard this place has great paths to take walk along the shore and beaches.”

“Sounds stereotypically romantic, I’m in.” She smiled at you again and for now the two of you were content with watching the stars in silence.


End file.
